


top-shelf liquor

by situational_irony_13



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A lot of tipsy/drunk people, Aged-Up Character(s), And imagine cold and distant bartender Tsukishima call me trash to my face, Bartender AU, Different meanings of relationships, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Humor, IT engineer Yamaguchi, Idk it's an excuse for me to research a shit ton of cocktails, Kuroo being Kuroo, M/M, Okay a lot of sap cos it's me and i can't not, Rated T cos alcohol and I think I swear a little?, Tsukishima learning about himself, Very Successful Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/situational_irony_13/pseuds/situational_irony_13
Summary: Yamaguchi meets him on one of the worst days of his life.Then he keeps meeting him.By the time their story is over, Yamaguchi figures he'll have serious liver damage.But it'll probably be worth it, if Tsukishima lets him in.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	1. old-fashioned

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic I've had half done for a while, and just haven't started posting cos I'm lazy. Sorry. Also here's more me being absolutely trash for tsukkiyama, kagehina, iwaoi, kuroken, and bokuaka. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also a serious warning, this might remain a WIP for longer than a lot of my works. It's just one of those fics I get sudden bursts of energy to work on at really random times with no actual pattern. But i will finish it because I'm compulsive like that. 
> 
> But yeah, my kyouhaba fic takes priority. Also this one fic I'm working with my beta on, it'll be a oneshot though. 
> 
> Also this chapter is short but I promise the other ones I have written are longer. :)

The first time Yamaguchi met him was on the worst day in recent history.

It was raining violently; raindrops pelted into windows and abused pedestrians as they hurried through the streets. The city was too loud, traffic held up by the rain and horns honking incessantly. Yamaguchi didn’t have an umbrella, not that it mattered very much.

So far, the only thing keeping him from completely crumpling was that he was _numb_ , his clothes completely soaked and chilled to the bone. His unruly black hair was plastered all over his forehead, and dark circles hung below his eyes. He had taken off his tie at some point, throwing it in a gutter somewhere. 

He’d been _fired._

Fired from his job as an IT engineer at one of the largest companies in the city. Great. Did he love his job? No. Did it pay the bills? Absolutely. But the larger problem was that he _moved_ to the city to be near his job. And now he no longer had a job, and lived in a city where he knew a grand total of three people. 

Right now, he needed to go home. He needed to get his life together and get over it, preferably starting with updating his resume.

But what he _wanted_ to do was get drunk. So, that was what he was going to do.

He didn’t really know any good bars (courtesy of being new) so he looked up one with the best reviews (called the 5-1) and headed straight there, his crumpled pink slip still in the palm of his hand.

The building was quite a bit more high-end than Yamaguchi was expecting, not that he had much energy left in him to devote to being embarrassed about his appearance. He trudged through the door, ignoring the alarmed looks people threw his way. As long as he got enough hard liquor into his system in the next 20 minutes, he’d probably avoid a serious emotional breakdown. He took a seat at the bar, his skin crawling slightly from the unwanted attention.

“Ohoho, you are a hot fucking mess,” a voice drawled.

Yamaguchi looked up and immediately registered two things: one, the man might have been one of the tallest people he’d ever met and two, he had the _worst bedhead_ Yamaguchi had ever seen. 

“Would you like a comb?” Yamaguchi asked reflexively, forgetting his social etiquette.

“You’ve got more spunk than I would have pegged for a soaking wet, dejected fucker.” 

“Well, I aim to surprise.” 

“So, what’s up with you? Wanna pour out your emotions to an unsuspecting bartender?”

“Actually, I’d prefer it if this entire place got really quiet and I could mainline alcohol into my veins.”

The bartender laughed loudly, before raising his arm to signal to someone else.

“This is no longer my scene,” he said by way of explanation. “Our blond boy wonder can help you out tonight. He likes to keep it quiet. Hope you feel better.”

Yamaguchi barely noticed the man’s presence being replaced by another, far quieter man, still essentially pitched face-first into the granite countertop. He only looked up when he heard a faint cough from someone clearly annoyed by his despondency.

Yamaguchi’s eyes scanned upward, taking in the fitted suit and vest that ended in a crisp collar, the long pale column of his neck, glasses framing apathetic eyes, and slightly unkempt blond hair. 

“Is it some sort of requirement to be incredibly tall to work here?”

The man’s expression never changed, though Yamaguchi could have sworn he saw a shade of humor in his eyes. He said nothing, opting instead to get to work. He grabbed a glass in one hand, dropping in a sugar cube and dashes of bitters. He poured in whiskey, stirring slowly and then adding in one large ice cube and stirring again. 

“Old-fashioneds aren’t really my thing,” Yamaguchi protested weakly.

The man cocked one eyebrow before garnishing the drink with an orange peel.

“How unfortunate,” he commented unconcernedly, his voice just as smooth and low as Yamaguchi had thought it would be. The glass was slid in front of Yamaguchi anyways, which he took as a signal that the bartender wanted him to drink it. Ah, whatever, it was alcohol and it was going to be consumed. 

“You’re oddly stubborn for service staff,” Yamaguchi commented, because apparently his manners weren’t going to make a reappearance anytime soon.

This comment actually received a change in expression, as the blond man’s lips quirked up just the tiniest bit on one side. Yamaguchi revelled in what felt like a victory (weirdly enough), before taking his first sip.

“ _Holy shit._ ”

The bartender simply chose to hum in acknowledgement that yes, Yamaguchi was wrong.

“Why is that so good?”

“Because it’s an old-fashioned.”

Yamaguchi stared at the blond man in front of him, so unwilling to speak in sentences longer than a couple words. Yamaguchi himself felt lost for words, the tragedy of a day seemed so much farther behind him after one sip of a drink.

“I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

The blond man adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, before turning to face him fully.

“I’m Tsukishima Kei.”

“Would you mind, perhaps, getting me drunk?”

That was the first time Yamaguchi saw the slightly aggressive gleam in Tsukishima’s eye. 

“Not at all.”

Yamaguchi doesn’t remember the rest of that night, which only means Tsukishima was good at his job.

As if there was ever any question of that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Hey, what ended up happening to that kid with the messy black hair?” Kuroo asked in the break/locker room, as the bar staff got ready to go home.

Akaashi, one of the other bartenders, shrugged before stripping himself of his suit jacket.

“His name was Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima intoned quietly. He slowly undid the buttons on his vest before shucking it off, and turned to grab his change of clothes when he realized that the locker room had gone absolutely _silent._ Even Oikawa, one of the other bartenders, had stopped his incessant chattering.

Everyone was staring at him.

“What?” Tsukishima asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Kuroo responded, and the locker room went back to normal.

Except Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel that something important had just happened, and he didn’t know what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I named the bar the 5-1 bc some website said that was the name for the play where Kageyama drops down to the offensive lineup and Suga sets. That's literally one of my favorite scenes, when they do that for the first time. i think i screamed. That's not important, but it's important to me that you know that. 
> 
> Also I legitimately could be wrong, and pls let me know. The bar will stay the same name though, for continuity.


	2. negroni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only fitting that Yamaguchi had a job interview at the same place he went when he lost his job.
> 
> Formally introducing Akaashi, Kozume-san (and Tsukishima blushing).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Chapter 2, with Kenma (because I love Kenma) and Kuroken (because I love kuroken). 
> 
> Also is that a hint of bokuaka? Yes, because I am trash.
> 
> Also is that a full dose of kagehina? Yes, because I am trash.
> 
> Nothing about this story isn't self-indulgent. I hope you guys know that. 
> 
> Also Yachi!!! Because she's my girl and she's sweet.

It was 4 PM, and Yamaguchi was asleep. Why? Well, he was tired. He was up late last night fretting about his interview (at 6 PM) and was barely functional in the morning. After a botched call with Hinata where he almost dropped his phone into a cup of orange juice, Yamaguchi allowed himself a nap until 3 PM.

He’d slept through all of his alarms. 

Luckily for him, Yachi was nothing if not punctual and meddling. She called at 4 PM on the dot, and Yamaguchi couldn’t ignore the bubbly J-pop ringtone Yachi had set for herself on his phone. 

“Hello?” he mumbled, still groggy. 

“ _ Yamaguchi Tadashi, were you asleep? You have an interview in two hours! _ ” 

Yamaguchi’s eyes flew open as he stumbled out of bed, one foot caught in his sheets. He tripped and planted his face directly into the ground, letting out an aborted “ow.” 

“ _ Serves you right, Yamaguchi! Get dressed now, or so help me god-” _

Yamaguchi ended the call, cutting off Yachi’s high-pitched tirade. He turned on his back before groaning and reaching for his watch. This interview was already doomed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, I made a mistake yesterday and then I made a mistake again by taking a nap, and I feel like this is going to end up really, really really-”

Yamaguchi was cut off by a loud crashing noise, and then Kageyama muttering angrily, “I’m going to  _ kill him _ ,” into the receiver, before Yamaguchi was apparently abandoned on the coffee table in favor of his friend murdering his other friend. 

“Sorry, Yamaguchi. You were saying?” Kageyama said, apparently through with the task of killing Hinata. 

“Well, I think my interview is going to go badly.”

“You’re wrong,” Kageyama said shortly, refusing to elaborate past that. If Yamaguchi weren’t so harried, he would have cracked a smile. It was so characteristic of Kageyama, that awkward bluntness that they had all come to love. 

“ _ Bakageyama _ , Yamaguchi needs  _ encouragement  _ right now!” Hinata barked from the kitchen. 

“...You can talk well?” Kageyama tried haltingly. 

Yamaguchi sighed, largely appeased. “Honestly, that’s not half bad, Kageyama-kun.”

“Yeah, Shouyou. I’m great at encouragement,” Kageyama called toward Hinata. 

Hinata had apparently walked back into their living room, because his voice became much clearer. “So where is your interview anyway?”

“Uh, it’s more informal. My interview was slotted in awkwardly, so this director is interviewing me before something else he has in the evening. It’s at a bar…?” Yamaguchi trailed off, realizing that he was about to leave the house and he didn’t even know where he was heading. 

“It’s at the 5-1,” he said, after he opened the email. “That’s where I went the day I got fired. Is that some sort of omen?”

“No,” Kageyama intoned. “Don’t overthink it, Yamaguchi,” Hinata added. 

Yamaguchi sighed, before beginning his farewells. He eventually hung up the phone to loud shouts of encouragement (Hinata) and one monotone ‘good luck’ (Kageyama). God, he loved them. 

_ Okay, Tadashi. Nerves of steel. You got this. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, just out of curiosity, how much can I drink before a job interview before it hits an inappropriate level?” 

The man looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow, his expression not unkind. 

“I think the correct answer to that question is none.” 

The bartender in front of him wasn’t Bedhead-san, nor was it Tsukishima. He was of average height, with beautiful delicate features and piercing eyes. His black hair was neatly combed, and his uniform fit him like a glove. The best comparison Yamaguchi could think of was an ice sculpture: beautiful in a cold, distant, delicate sort of way. 

The taciturn man returned his attention to the chore he was completing (arranging glasses on the shelf behind him) and Yamaguchi tried to get his nerves under control. He was early, a good indicator for a job interview. 

“Oi, Akaashi! I have some more for you.” Bedhead-san stepped into view holding a crate half-filled with glasses. 

“Yamaguchi! You’re back!” he exclaimed, leaning casually against the bar. Yamaguchi’s eyes widened, his entire body relaxing as his focus lifted from his job interview. 

“I’m fairly certain I didn’t introduce myself to you, Bedhead-san.” 

Bedhead-san choked slightly at the nickname, while the other bartender smiled softly before returning to stacking cups. 

“My name is Kuroo, so please stop calling me Bedhead-san. And you didn’t.”

“My apologies, Kuroo-san. Then, how did you know my name?”

At this juncture, the beautiful bartender turned around. “Tsukishima-san told us. It was quite a revelatory experience. My name is Akaashi, by the way.

“It’s nice to meet you, Akaashi-san. Tsukishima told you?”

Kuroo nodded quickly, before changing the subject. “What can I get you, Yamaguchi?”

“I wish, Kuroo-san. I’m here for a job interview. A Kozume-san is supposed to be interviewing me for a position in his division at the biggest tech conglomerate in the city.”

Kuroo-san had a very unsettling smirk on his face, and Akaashi-san was hiding what seemed to be an amused expression behind one hand. “A Kozume-san, huh?” Kuroo commented.

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened. “Why? What do you know? Are they terrifying?”

“I mean, I have the good sense to fear Kozume-san, but don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, Yamaguchi.” Akaashi was biting his lip to repress a smile at this point. 

“Kuroo-san, can I respectfully mention that you are the worst?”

“Not really feeling the respect, Yamaguchi-kun.” 

“Good.” 

Kuroo laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “He’s more feisty than he appears. Then again, that’s more your type, isn’t it Tsukishima?”

The blond bartender appeared from the same service entrance Kuroo-san had come out of, carrying a respective crate. He inclined his head silently at Yamaguchi, who smiled back softly. 

The comfortable environment was dashed when Akaashi-san coughed slightly, gesturing at the man who had just walked in. The man was relatively short, with two-toned hair. He was buried in his phone, but had on relatively professional clothing. 

“Kozume-san,” Kuroo greeted solemnly, bowing formally without so much as a sleazy grin on his face. Yamaguchi’s stomach flip-flopped. How severe must a person be to get Kuroo-san to be this formal?

The man looked up, revealing large golden eyes that were rather cat-like. He took a deep breath, finishing his typing without looking at the keyboard. He opened his mouth, and said:

“Shut up, Kuro.”

Yamaguchi snorted before he could stop himself, clapping his hands to his mouth and his eyes widened in horror. “Sorry, Kuroo-san,” he whispered, loud in the suddenly silent environment. Then Akaashi-san began chuckling, and Tsukishima tried to disguise his amused smile by cleaning his glasses. Yamaguchi turned to look at Kozume-san, sure that he had botched his interview before it had even started. 

“Anyone who laughs at Kuroo earns points in my book,” he said quietly. Then: “You must be Yamaguchi-san. Let’s get started, shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Yamaguchi. How’d it go? Was Kozume-san as formidable as you believed?” The last part of Kuroo’s question was delivered teasingly towards Kozume-san (or  _ Kenma _ , as he had corrected about fifteen seconds into the interview). 

Kenma only rolled his eyes, opting to remain silent.

“It wasn’t bad, I’m hoping I did well,” Yamaguchi said, feeling a little awkward talking about the interview in front of his interviewer. 

“Kuroo, we’re gonna be late,” Kenma said, looking up from his phone with a small smile. 

“Oh yes! We’re going to see a play,” Kuroo explained to their group. Tsukishima and Akaashi looked like they could really care less, but Yamaguchi cocked his head to the side in confusion. 

“Trying to spice up date night,” Kuroo said by way of explanation. 

“Good idea,” Yamaguchi said reflexively. Then: “Wait, what?” 

Except Kuroo-san and Kenma were already on their way to the door. Yamaguchi sat at the bar, addled by the whiplash of the conversation, when Kenma stopped short of the door and turned around. 

“Oh, and Tadashi? I’ll see you on Monday. Keep an eye out for an offer email.” 

Then they were both gone. Yamaguchi turned to Tsukishima and Akaashi, the former characteristically expressionless while the latter wore a small smile. 

“Did I just get a job?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yamaguchi was a good couple drinks in, chatting idly with Akaashi-san, when Tsukishima walked up and offered to relieve him. 

“Nice to see you again, Tsukishima-kun.”

Tsukishima leveled him with a stare, the low light of the bar glinting off the frame of his glasses.

“Let’s not do Tsukishima-kun.”

“Tsukishima-chan?”

Tsukishima made a face like Yamaguchi had forced sour milk into his mouth.

“Oh, I got it! Tsukki!” Yamaguchi was doubled over in peals of laughter before he could really even get it out of his mouth, the tipsiness boosting his confidence. When Yamaguchi looked up again, Tsukishima was just looking at him, some unreadable expression in his eyes. 

“What,  _ Tsukki _ ?”

“Nothing, Yamaguchi. You’re just in a good mood today.”

“I got a job.” 

“Yes, you did. Congratulations.” 

Then Tsukishima went to work. One part gin, one part vermouth rosso, one part Campari. Stirred, built over ice. All the while, Yamaguchi talked about nothing and everything, alcohol loosening his tongue. Finally, Tsukishima slid the glass towards him, deep reddish brown liquid and an orange peel garnish.

“What is it?”

“It’s the next stage of your education into good drinks. It’s a Negroni. Made in congratulations.”

“Is it a congratulatory drink?”

“It’s thought to be an aperitif.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Tsukishima took off his glasses, intently cleaning them with the corner of his vest without looking up.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Drink the damn thing, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi grinned, self-satisfied. “I maintain that you’re rude for service staff, Tsukki.” He took a long sip, less surprised at the smoothness of the drink, the clear perfection in the way it was made. “It’s good,” he said, his head inclined in thought. It was bold, and a bit bitter. 

“I don’t know, I might be more of an ‘old-fashioned’ person.” Yamaguchi tried to think back to what it had tasted like. “Then again, that drink was a reprieve in an awful storm. This is different.”

Tsukishima leaned down languidly, the gap between them narrowing down to a handful of inches. “You’re kind of a sap, Yamaguchi,” he said, and Yamaguchi could feel the words against his face.

“What can I say? I’m tipsy.” 

“So, I guess I’ve had the privilege of getting you drunk and getting you tipsy.”

Yamaguchi raised his eyebrows. “Technically, Akaashi-san got me tipsy.”

Tsukishima leaned in imperceptibly further, using his forefinger to push his glasses up the tip of his nose. “Pity. I suppose I’ll have to try again.”

“You’ll probably get lots of chances; apparently, my boss is dating Kuroo-san.” Yamaguchi blames his inability to maintain a respectful poker face on the alcohol. 

“Just say it,” Tsukishima intoned, more amused than offended. 

“Why is a director of one of the biggest tech conglomerates in the city dating a bartender?”

“Kuroo and Kozume-san have known each other since they were little. They were childhood best friends, who grew up together, fell in love, and have maybe the sappiest story that Kuroo chooses to regale us all with at least once a month. Not that it’s any of my business or care, but you aren’t necessarily giving Kuroo enough credit. He’s finishing up his doctorate, getting a PhD in organic chemistry.” Tsukishima paused, leaning back slightly. Yamaguchi couldn’t help but feel disappointed in the loss of proximity. 

“I really couldn’t care less, but Kuroo and Kozume-san have a loving and supportive relationship and all that crap. And Kuroo’s a bartender because he loves it, not to mention he’s damn good at it.” Tsukishima looked away, trying to look as distant as possible. 

Yamaguchi leaned up, restoring their proximity. “I was wrong. But, who’s the sap now,  _ Tsukki _ ?” he whispered, before slipping out of his chair and heading towards Akaashi to settle his tab.

Tsukishima fiddled with the buttons of his vest as Yamaguchi walked away. And if the tips of his ears were red? No one would have to know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, plays definitely aren’t our thing. I think Kenma and I  _ both _ fell asleep, and then there was this elderly couple who shook us awake, but like  _ judgmentally _ -”

“-Kuroo-san, pipe down for a second. I have news too,” Akaashi said, voice lower than normal. 

“Tsukishima? Blushed.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows fully disappeared into the fringe hanging over his forehead. 

“That little Yamaguchi is working his magic rather quickly, huh?”

Akaashi smiled distantly. “Tsukishima-san may come out of his shell yet.”

“Like you with Bokuto?” Kuroo teased. Akaashi bit his lip, blushing imperceptibly. Kuroo laughed loudly, before looking over at Akaashi with beaming eyes.

“Tell Bokuto I say hi, okay? We haven’t met up in what feels like  _ forever _ .”

“You and Kou hung out three days ago, Kuroo-san.”

“Exactly.  _ Forever.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh why do I kind of love Maid-Sama? Like I decided to watch it cos I was super bored and for some reason it's quickly become one of my favorite things ever? I would die for Misaki because I love her, and I would give anything for Usui 'cause I want him to be my boyfriend. So there's that.
> 
> Also Kakegurui is similarly amazing but fills a VERY different niche. Now THAT is an exciting show. 
> 
> What else? Oh I am very excited about Chapter 4 of my Kyouhaba fic which I've finally gotten the motivation to grind on (it's almost done!!!). And I've gotten very interested in fanart. Like I can't draw to save my own life, I'm like the worst artist I know, but I've been begging one of my friends to draw for me bc there's nothing I would like more than 1) any fanart of my favorite characters and 2) one of my scenes drawn out??? that would be absolutely insane. So far, my friend is absolutely not budging, more in the fact that they can't draw people (but that's a small issue that can be worked out, right?) But yeah. Oh I almost forgot, there is a haikyuu oneshot that I desperately want to write that has been half-planned and my beta and I are working out, but I just haven't gotten in the right headspace for it yet. So keep an eye out for that eventually if it's your thing!
> 
> All my love, and stay safe!


	3. tequila shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi and Tsukishima take another step, talk a little more. 
> 
> It's odd to go from barely knowing someone to reflecting on the nature of love with them. But neither Yamaguchi nor Tsukishima are very normal, are they?
> 
> Featuring: more kagehina and some iwaoi!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I have nothing to say for myself in regards to the iwaoi in this chapter except for I'm iwaoi trash and you really should have expected this from me. It's too self-indulgent, I know. I really need to work on toning down the sap.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the golden glow framed by buildings on either side. The awning leading into the 5-1 was soon bathed in pink light as Yamaguchi crossed the street, heading towards the bar. Hinata would not stop chattering, clearly  _ very _ excited about finally being able to see what he had dubbed  _ Yamaguchi’s happy place _ . 

Yamaguchi had only been there a couple times. It was  _ hardly  _ his happy place. 

“Oi, idiot. Give me your hand.” Kageyama clutched Hinata’s hand tightly in his as they cut through city traffic. When Yamaguchi had asked about it once, Kageyama had scowled, only saying, “The idiot might run into oncoming traffic, become a tangerine stain on the road.” Hinata had squawked, yelling about how “morbid that was, Tobio!” 

But in essence, it was about how much Kageyama cared about Hinata. Yamaguchi tried to withhold a slight sigh. He loved his friends with every fibre of his being, but  _ God _ , it had been too long since he’d been cared for. Loved. 

Maybe he could use a drink. Good thing they were walking into a bar.

“Yamaguchi! You’re back!” Kuroo exclaimed as the group entered the door. Yamaguchi smiled almost involuntarily; Kuroo-san was almost always very amicable. 

“ _ Whoa. _ Yamaguchi, this place is so much  _ fancier  _ than you ever told us it was.  _ How did you afford this place when you were unemployed? _ ” Hinata asked, eyes wide. 

Yamaguchi cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably. “Well, I only came here once when I was unemployed, and well, my current job pays pretty well.” They had made their way towards the stretch of the bar Yamaguchi often frequented by then.

“Plus, Yamaguchi is one of our favorite customers. More favored by some than others, if you know what I mean,” Kuroo added on with a wink as he sauntered over. 

“And I see you’ve brought friends this time, Yamaguchi! I hope you’re good with introductions, I wouldn’t want to do them a disservice in terms of understanding my greatness.”

“Ew, Kuroo-san, you sound like Oikawa-san,” Yamaguchi complained with a giggle. 

Oikawa’s bark of offense from the other end of the bar went ignored by the group, as Yamaguchi began introducing the parties. 

“Kuroo-san, meet Hinata and Kageyama, two of my best friends. We went to high school together, and they moved here to be on a professional volleyball team fresh out of college. They were my only friends in the city when I moved here.” Here, Yamaguchi changed gears to introduce Kuroo. 

“Shou, Tobio, this is Kuroo-san. He’s one of the best bartenders in the city, he’s going to have a PhD in organic chemistry soon, and...he’s my boss’s boyfriend.” 

Hinata wrinkled his nose in confusion, as Kageyama cocked his head to the side. 

“So, he’s...what?” Hinata stumbled. Kageyama nodded, apparently seconding the confusion. 

“Let’s just get you two boys drunk, shall we?” Kuroo announced, taking over. Yamaguchi let out a sigh of relief, as Hinata and Kageyama (okay, mostly Hinata) began chattering with Kuroo loudly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuroo-san had wandered away at some point, apparently spending his break flirting with Kenma in the locker room (at least according to Akaashi-san, who had also left at some point to take inventory). Hinata was three sheets to the wind, giggling more boisterously than should be allowed at a high-end establishment like this. It was made slightly better by the fact that Oikawa-san was giggling with him. 

It was not made better by the fact that Oikawa-san seemed to be flirting with Hinata. 

Yamaguchi knew something about that situation wasn’t right (other than the fact that Hinata and Kageyama had been together  _ forever _ ) but the alcohol kept making his thought process spiral just as he got close to the answer.

Tobio, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to murder someone.

“You have such cute hair, Chibi-chan!” Oikawa-san reached out to tug at one of Hinata’s orange curls. Hinata giggled, and Kageyama honest-to-goodness  _ growled.  _

“Time to go, Shouyou,” Kageyama gritted out, draping Hinata’s coat over his shoulders. Yamaguchi stood up, then realized he was more tipsy than he thought, dizziness overtaking him. He plopped back into his seat, choosing to wave instead at their retreating backs, even as Hinata protested, slurring his words. 

“What about you, Yamaguchi-kun? What do you want?” Oikawa-san asked lowly, far too close to him. 

Yamaguchi’s thought process finally clicked, and he blurted out, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Of course.”

“Then, why are you flirting with me?”

“‘Cause I’m bored.”

Tipsy Yamaguchi didn’t seem to find any flaw in this reasoning, because the next words out of his mouth were, “Oh. Carry on, then.”

Oikawa-san’s eyes widened, sparkling with barely contained amusement. Just as he was about to say something, a cold voice interrupted.

“How about you don’t?”

Tsukishima stood a couple feet away, as poised and elegant-looking as always. The only tell of his current frustration was the slight redness at the tips of his ears, and how he was currently cleaning his glasses to avoid making eye contact with both of them. 

“Oh, Tsukki! I was looking for you!”  _ Well then, it seemed Tipsy Yamaguchi had actually zero filter. _

Tsukishima’s head jerked upward, surprise evident in his eyes as he made eye-contact with Yamaguchi. At the same time, a gruff voice shouted “Oi, Shittykawa!” from the entrance. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed, voice breathless. He looked past Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi watched affection flood his eyes. Damn, Oikawa-san was literally making heart-eyes at this man. 

“I missed you,” Oikawa-san mumbled as the man got close enough to hear him. 

The man bit his lip, apparent fondness bleeding through his gruff exterior. “I missed you too, dumbass. Ready to get out of here?” 

“Greetings, Iwaizumi-san. How was your business trip?” Tsukishima asked, and Yamaguchi’s eyes widened as he watched Tsukishima exhibit a surprising amount of  _ respect _ .

“Surprisingly productive, Tsukishima-kun. How was taking care of this idiot for a week?”

“Like pulling teeth, Iwaizumi-san.”

The man (Iwaizumi, apparently) laughed loudly, wrapping one of his arms around Oikawa’s waist to hold him close. The two left quickly after that, whispering into each other’s ears and giggling like teenagers. 

“Damn. Oikawa-san loves him,” Yamaguchi commented. Tsukishima snorted, running a rag over the bartop to expunge any condensation rings. 

“Of course he does. Sorry you lost your shot.” Tsukishima wouldn’t even look at him, his words more cold than Yamaguchi had ever heard them before. 

“What? No. Ew. I don’t want to have a shot with Oikawa-san. He’s Oikawa-san.” Tsukishima chuckled, even as the tension went out of his shoulders. 

“Then, what’s with the wistful tone?”

“I guess, I just miss being loved. Miss loving someone. Like that.”

“So, you’ve loved someone like that?” 

“Oh, no. That look in Oikawa-san’s eyes, and Iwaizumi-san’s eyes?” Yamaguchi paused, taking a sip of whatever drink it was that was in front of him. “It’s forever. I’ve never loved anyone in a forever way. I wish, though.”

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi sat in silence for a couple minutes. “Is it still forever if Oikawa-san flirts with everything that breathes in a three-block vicinity?” Tsukishima asked, leftover bitterness oozing into his voice. 

“I mean, I’m not a very secure man. Iwaizumi-san must be, but even I know it’s not like the flirting means anything at all. The entire time Oikawa-san spent with me and my friends tonight, he didn’t have half the life in his eyes that he did when he spotted Iwaizumi-san. He looked at him like, I don’t know. Like something more.” Yamaguchi paused again to drain what was left in his glass. “The flirting makes him good at his job, you know. He makes several times more tips than most of you, with the exception of Kuroo-san.”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at Yamaguchi, who simply said “Akaashi-san told me,” by way of explanation. 

“You respect Iwaizumi-san.” It was a statement of fact, but it seemed Yamaguchi wanted an explanation. 

“I do. He just seems very competent. I appreciate competency. Plus, the man puts up with Oikawa.”

“He  _ loves _ Oikawa,” Yamaguchi corrected, fiddling with the rim of his cup.

“I suppose,” Tsukishima amended. 

“Hey, Tsukki?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you think love works?”

“Well, before you can love someone, you have to know them. Before you can be loved, you have to be known.”

A stretch of silence.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think anyone loves me?”

“Well, do you think anyone knows you?”

Yamaguchi thought for a couple seconds. “No,” he finally decided. “Not in the ways that matter.”

Tsukishima let out a breath, and waited for Yamaguchi to make the next move. 

“Hey, Tsukki?”

“Yeah, Yamaguchi?”

“I think Drunk Yamaguchi could be happier than Tipsy Yamaguchi.”

“Your habit of referring to yourself in third-person alter egos worries me.” Even as he said that, he pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of tequila. 

Yamaguchi looked at him with appreciation in his big brown eyes. You’d have thought Tsukishima had hung the moon, when all he’d done was pull out a bottle. It was literally his job. 

Except Tsukishima couldn’t help but want nothing more than to have Yamaguchi look at him like that all the time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Tsukishima had guided Yamaguchi to his Uber, the latter now completely smashed, he returned to the locker room. There were barely any bartenders left, but Akaashi and Kuroo had apparently stuck around until closing.

Tsukishima was in an oddly somber mood, Yamaguchi’s words apparently having hit home. Akaashi and Kuroo turned concerned eyes on him, but stayed silent. Tsukishima unbuttoned his vest methodically, switching out his glasses for the more comfortable pair. He folded his jacket and vest, placing them carefully in his satchel. He ran a hand through his hair before shutting his locker smoothly and quietly. He stayed facing his shut locker before muttering (practically to himself), “I think I want to know him. At the very least.”

Then Tsukishima grabbed his satchel, striding out the door with purposeful steps, leaving behind a wide-eyed Kuroo and Akaashi. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta be honest, I posted this bc I haven't posted anything in a while bc I haven't written anything in a while and I had this sitting in my folder all ready to go so I took the path of least resistance. I will get back to writing, and hopefully add to this story. School's just completely kicking my ass. 
> 
> So what's a nice update? What have I been up to? I started Kimetsu No Yaiba, and I love Tanjiro and I love Nezuko cos she's a badass and yeah. I also strangely love Sabito for him being there for like 10 total minutes. But I'm barely halfway through the show so PLEASE no spoilers thank youuuuu. 
> 
> Idk. Life is like, so weird. Life in general. It's just so odd. So I've decided not to pay a lot of attention to it. Might as well pay more attention to Tsukishima as a bartender.


	4. absolutely nothing at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 months go by, and Yamaguchi has a bit of a crush.
> 
> Featuring for the very first time in this fic, Bokuto-san! 
> 
> Aaand Bokuaka!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named all my chapters off the drink Tsukishima makes for Yamaguchi and then I wrote this chapter and realized he doesn't make anything and I was too lazy to fix it so there you go, have that chapter title.

Four months went by in a flash. Yamaguchi settled into his new job, making friends with his coworkers and team members, respecting and liking Kenma more with every interaction. The man was quiet and a bit morose naturally, but he had a quick wit, a strategic mind, and he consistently beat Yamaguchi at any video game their team played together as ‘team bonding’. 

Yamaguchi invariably found himself at the 5-1 at least once a week, whether it was for after-work hangouts, nights out with Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi, or simply just to continue his education in drinks with Tsukki. At a certain point, Yamaguchi realized he wasn’t even entering the bar with the intention to get drunk; he mostly just wanted to spend time with people he counted as his friends. 

Initially after that discovery, Yamaguchi began to feel awkward. They were service employees; it was their job to be nice to him. He withdrew a bit, not coming in as often, and barely speaking when he was there. Then, Kuroo-san (who apparently had all the tact of a rhinoceros in this particular scenario) made him a drink one evening, and held it an arm’s length away from him, and just stared at him for a couple minutes. 

“Uh, Kuroo-san? Can I have my drink?”

“Not until you tell me why you don’t like hanging out with us anymore.”

Yamaguchi had looked up with a startled expression. “I do like hanging out with you guys, you’re all my friends.”

“Then?”

“I figured you were just nice to me because it was your job,” Yamaguchi admitted helplessly. 

“You’re actually the stupidest person I’ve ever met, Yamaguchi.”

“I suppose you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yourself, then.” Yamaguchi’s social propriety had relaxed quite a bit over the months. 

“Oof. But seriously, with the exception of Oikawa-san, we’re all politely distant with customers. I yell your name every time you walk in. Akaashi has  _ smiled _ at you. And Tsukishima…” Kuroo had trailed off, and Yamaguchi had filed it away as something to pursue later. 

But ever since then, Yamaguchi began to come into the bar frequently, more often than not without the intention of drinking any alcohol at all. Oikawa-san would make him some virgin drink (‘cause for some reason, Oikawa-san’s virgin drinks were  _ god-tier _ ) and he’d chat with whoever was available. Kenma came with him often. 

This particular night was markedly different, from the very moment Yamaguchi stepped in the 5-1. First off, Kuroo-san did not yell some greeting. Second, it appeared to be because Kuroo-san was in the middle of performing a complex and involved handshake with a buff man with grey/white spiky hair. When Kuroo-san fumbled, the man  _ hooted _ . 

Yamaguchi sidled up to Oikawa-san, who was watching with an amused (yet fond) expression on his face. “Akaashi-san is going to hate the noise, isn’t he?” Oikawa-san snorted, before commenting: “I think this noise he’ll put up with.” 

At that moment, Akaashi-san walked out from the locker room, fussing with the strands of hair hanging over his forehead. The man with the spiky hair called toward him, “Keiji!” with a wide smile. Yamaguchi felt his jaw drop when Akaashi-san’s expression brightened considerably, as he smiled widely back at him. He strode forward quickly, tucking himself under the man’s arm, practically burrowing into his side. 

“Is this Akaashi-san’s boyfriend? The one who was banned from the bar for 6 months?” 

“For accidentally shooting the owner of Kenma-kun’s company with the club soda gun? This is him, in the flesh.”

Yamaguchi appraised the man silently. “He’s a lot more, harmless looking, than I would have imagined.”

“I think Bokuto-kun would be able to smash a skull between his thighs.”

“No! I mean like, he seems like a fluffy teddy bear.” The man (Bokuto) currently had Akaashi wrapped up in his arms and tucked under his chin. He was swaying lightly on his feet, and still sustaining a conversation with Kuroo (who didn’t bat an eyelid). 

“Oh, he absolutely is a fluffy teddy bear,” Oikawa said, before striding towards the trio with outstretched arms. Bokuto ran up to Oikawa and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. When Bokuto finally released him, Oikawa pointed out Yamaguchi, saying something about him to Bokuto. Yamaguchi stepped forward, holding out a hand for a respectful handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san. I’m Yamaguchi. I’m an acquaintance of everyone here.”

“ _ Acquaintance _ ,” Kuroo mocked. 

Bokuto regarded Yamaguchi’s outstretched hand for a moment, long enough for Yamaguchi to feel deeply uncomfortable and consider dropping it. Then a blinding grin spread over Bokuto’s face, and he rushed forward to crush Yamaguchi in a hug, lifting him off the ground. 

“Ow,” Yamaguchi choked, still hovering inches above the ground. Bokuto-san gave him a quick twirl. 

“Release him, Bokuto-san,” a recognizable monotone voice called. Bokuto dropped him lightly on his feet, before booming, “It’s nice to meet you, Yamaguchi-kun!” Yamaguchi nodded, smiling nicely, discreetly trying to even out any rumples in his shirt. He gasped quietly when he felt a hand delicately brush over his shoulder, down his back, and come around to the center of his stomach. 

“You had wrinkles,” Tsukishima whispered in his ear, and Yamaguchi stiffened when he realized how close Tsukishima was standing behind him. He could feel Tsukishima’s breath on the shell of his ear.

“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi whispered, turning into him, looking up. They were  _ so close together _ , Yamaguchi could count Tsukishima’s lashes. He could lean up…Yamaguchi watched as Tsukishima’s eyes dropped to his lips just as Yamaguchi had the same thought. Tsukishima bit his lip slightly, the pale pink going red in what seemed like seconds. 

“Hey, hey, hey!!” The loud exclamation made the both of them start, even as Kuroo and Oikawa simultaneously smacked a hand over Bokuto-san’s mouth and dragged him backward. Yamaguchi ran a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly as Tsukishima looked away, the tips of his ears going further red. 

“Nice to see you, Tsukishima-kun,” Bokuto continued, perplexed by his friends’ reactions. 

“Please refrain from using our club soda gun, Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima intoned coldly. Yamaguchi smirked slightly to himself as he picked out the underlying frustration in Tsukishima’s words.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Akaashi said quietly into Yamaguchi’s ear. “Jesus!” Yamaguchi flinched. “Wear a bell around your neck or something, Akaashi-san!”

Akaashi simply looked at him expectantly. Yamaguchi's gaze flickered towards Tsukishima, and caught Tsukishima looking at him. They locked eyes for a couple seconds, before Tsukishima turned on his heel to take his position behind the bar at the opposite on the end of the room.

“A drink sounds fantastic,” Yamaguchi decided.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Since when has  _ that _ been a thing?” Bokuto asked, perplexed.

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa asked, feigning ignorance.

“Tsukishima-kun and Yamaguchi-kun!” Bokuto urged. Kuroo, Oikawa and Akaashi maintained expressionless faces. “ _ You guys didn’t see that? _ ” Bokuto practically yelled. 

Kuroo crumpled first. “Damn, you win,” he complained, forking over a handful of bills to Oikawa, who in turn gave a portion of that to Akaashi. “I figured he was the densest out of all of us, when it came to picking up signs.” Oikawa simply laughed victoriously, wrapping his arms around Akaashi in a quick hug. 

“Hey!” Bokuto yelled, offended. “But, wait. I am the densest when it comes to picking up signs. They’re just,  _ so freaking obvious _ . I mean did you see that sexual tension?” 

Akaashi snorted, laughing softly. “I mean, is he wrong?” Akaashi asked when Kuroo and Oikawa turned surprised eyes on him. 

“So, Tsukishima-kun is capable of liking someone?” Bokuto asked. 

Kuroo and Oikawa shrugged, while Akaashi nodded softly. “It seems that way.” 

The four of them turned around when they heard soft knocking at the locker room door.

“I apologize for interrupting, but could one of you seriously, legitimately, set me up with a drink?” Yamaguchi asked, fidgeting slightly. 

“Isn’t Kei-kun out there?” Oikawa asked ‘innocently’. Yamaguchi let out what seemed to be an involuntary sound of distress, his cheeks bright pink. 

“You need that liquid courage first, huh?” Bokuto asked, all pure enthusiasm. Yamaguchi nodded silently, flashing him a small smile. Bokuto strode forward quickly, placing a heavy arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders.

“It was just the same with me, when I wanted to talk to Akaashi the first time. You might be thinking,  _ you needed courage? _ But yeah, I did. I mean have you seen Akaashi? He’s so far out of my league. So anyway, I met Akaashi a while ago. Like, 4 or 5 years ago? We were both in college, and he was working at the bar closest to campus. And it was the first time I went (with Kuroo, actually) and I saw him and it was just  _ whoomp _ . Everything else just fell away. I think I actually fell out of my seat…” Bokuto kept talking, directing Yamaguchi out the door and towards the main seating area. Then just as he was about to be out of sight, he turned and grinned widely at Akaashi. 

Kuroo and Oikawa turned around to see a bright red Akaashi, clicking his tongue, burying his face in his hands to disguise his blush. 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long I forgot how much Kou-chan makes Kaashi-chan  _ blush _ ,” Oikawa teased. Akaashi wordlessly smacked Oikawa in the face with his own vest. 

“Hurry up, I think Bokuto might try his hand making Yamaguchi a drink,” Kuroo urged after a sudden revelation.

“Oh  _ shit _ !” Oikawa swore, as the three quickly buttoned up their uniforms before Bokuto wreaked havoc on the 5-1  _ again _ . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yamaguchi had actually been waiting for Tsukishima to wander over, silent as always. It had become their little routine on the days Yamaguchi was open to actually drinking, and Yamaguchi would be lying if he said he didn’t instinctively look forward to seeing Tsukishima walk toward him slowly, eyes never actually directed toward him.

“What do you have for me, Tsukki?” His words would have ordinarily been uttered with that trademark adoring enthusiasm that seemed to be reserved for the taciturn blond standing in front of him, but today he was tired. His words came out lower, smooth, almost lazy. If Yamaguchi had all of his wits about him, he would have spared a moment to marvel at the tone. 

Tsukishima looked at him appraisingly, the frames of his glasses seeming to glow in the low light. 

“I don’t know, Yamaguchi. What do you want from me?” 

Yamaguchi’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he looked up with wide eyes. Tsukishima looked back at him steadily, if a bit unsure. 

“Everything you can give me,” Yamaguchi mumbled, eyes tracing the patterns of the granite bar, the words barely hitting the air before they dissipated into wisps of nothing. There were many seconds of silence, seconds during which Yamaguchi contemplated slamming his head into the counter over and over until he forgot the words he had just uttered. Then, Tsukishima used a single knuckle under Yamaguchi’s chin to tip his face upward, their faces too close together to pretend the moment was platonic. 

“How about I walk you home?” Tsukishima asked quietly, eyes not quite tender but so close Yamaguchi could feel his heart grow too large for his chest. 

“It’s a bit far,” Yamaguchi warned, hoping against all odds this wouldn’t dissuade Tsukishima from going through with his offer. 

“All the better,” Tsukishima remarked casually, turning to walk back into the locker room. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

Then Tsukishima stopped two feet from the locker room door, and looked over his shoulder.

“You make a good friend, Yamaguchi.”

He proceeded into the locker room nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just knocked all the air from Yamaguchi’s lungs. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, and Yamaguchi spread a palm against the countertop, the cool material soothing the sting of rejection. 

“Oh, my god.” Oikawa appeared in his periphery with perhaps the most exasperated expression on his face. “Did he really just say that?”

Yamaguchi choked back a bitter laugh. “I imagined a lot of shit, apparently.”

Suddenly Oikawa’s expression narrowed sharply. “Tsukishima-kun is talking a load of shit, Yama-kun. You know that right? He doesn’t mean it to be a rejection.”

“I think he was rather clear, Oikawa-san.”

“No! No, don’t you dare give up on his sorry ass now after almost  _ half a year _ of this painful pining.”

“Yeah, Oikawa-san. Half a year. All I have to show for it is an education on cocktails and probably liver cirrhosis.” He bit out another hollow laugh. “Being friends with Tsukki is enough for me to be happy,” he finally said, eyes far away.

“That’s exactly why you deserve to be  _ with _ him, Yamaguchi.”

“You ready?” Tsukishima asked from the locker room doorway. Yamaguchi chirped an affirmation before hopping off the barstool to leave with a final sad glance towards Oikawa. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Oikawa groaned. “You all heard all of that right?” 

Kuroo sighed from his position in the back. “Yeah, I did.”

“So did Bokuto-san and I,” Akaashi responded from the service entrance hallway. 

“Wait, shouldn’t one of you be serving drinks? Because that’s literally our job?” 

“We closed a half hour ago, Oikawa. Jesus, why do  _ you _ get jet-lagged when Iwaizumi goes on business trips?”

“Everyone, pay attention! This entire situation is going off the rails. And not to point any fingers here, but someone predicted that their relationship would progress like a slow-moving trainwreck four months ago, and you both dismissed that someone.” Kuroo scoffed, turning the corner to speak face-to-face. “Hush, Tetsu-chan. It’s understandable that you don’t harbor a clairvoyance similar to mine. But all I’m saying is that we’re past the window where we can shove them into the wine cellar and force them together.”

“That was never even an option, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi intoned calmly, finally coming into view. For anyone other than him, he would look barely ruffled. However, with his hair slightly unkempt and vest askew, Oikawa could confidently whistle an innuendo. Bokuto trailed after him, eyes just glassy enough to corroborate Akaashi’s exterior.

“Let me just say, I did not miss you guys making out in the service entrance hallway,” Oikawa commented with a smirk. Akaashi wordlessly shot him the finger, while Bokuto walked up to him, eyebrows raised. “And I never asked to see you and Iwaizumi-san fooling around  _ behind the bar _ but you don’t hear me complainin’ about it, do you?” Oikawa’s eyes widened comically, and he squeaked uncomfortably. “Ouch, lethal hit,” Kuroo commentated snidely. 

“But back to the point, Oikawa: I think they’ll be fine,” Bokuto said. 

When the three bartenders looked at him inquisitively, Bokuto elaborated:

“I don’t need to explain why it’s obvious Yamaguchi is head over heels for Tsukishima. And I mean, Tsukishima couldn’t go a whole minute without glancing over at Yamaguchi at least once, and this was for the whole evening. Obviously there’s a certain level of miscommunication, but come on. It’s Tsukishima. Once he makes up his mind that he wants something?”

Bokuto seemed to pose the question rhetorically, but Akaashi finished his sentence anyway.

“Nothing can stop him.”

The four friends sat in silence for a little while, before Oikawa interrupted the comfortable stillness. “Well, that was oddly intelligent of you, Bokkun. A bit out of character, if I do say so. Anyway, I have to get going now ‘cause I have some  _ brilliant _ phone sex scheduled in 45 minutes with Iwa-chan!”

Bokuto squawked in offense while Kuroo threw a crumpled piece of paper at Oikawa while yelling about how gross he was. Akaashi just rolled his eyes as they got ready to go home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the most I've written that isn't a history or English essay (or an article for our newspaper) in like, a while. I kinda lowkey hate myself for not being able to do the thing but yk the thing where the fic just works and it comes out and look it's staring at you in the doc all pretty and well written? I broke the thing. it doesn't happen. Maybe it's bc all my writing ability is sucked into bullshit essays about federalism but it's not happening and it's frustrating but I am trying. I promise. I really, really hope I don't let myself and all of you down. But for the time being, here: have Bokuto-san & Tsukishima being an accidental asshole.


End file.
